Turn around bright eyes
by noonrise
Summary: Ray and Neela, neither coping too well with what life has dealt them. A journey into the darkest of emotions. Post season 12 speculation.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing to do with ER, I just like writing about it. The characters belong to their respective creators. The lyrics used here (centred and in italics) are from the Bonnie Tyler song, total eclipse of the heart, and I don't own them either.

**Rated M: **and I** mean** it!

Thanks to **Erin **for the beta, it's only here because of you sweetheart!  
And thanks to my much better half for being so patient and honest about what I write. **XXX**

**A/N: **Ok guys, this one's dark. It comes with a severe health warning, much out of character behaviour and if you are of a gentle, happy and positive disposition, you may not want to read this at all. I'm posting this in one go, as this is not the story to keep you hanging on with. Once again, this deals with heavy, painful and (some might say) controversial themes, I'm rating it accordingly. If you're still with me, buckle in, it's gonna be a rough ride...

Liz

* * *

**Turn around bright eyes **

_Turnaround, every now and then I get a_  
_little bit lonely and you're never coming around_  
_Turnaround, Every now and then I get a_  
_little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears_  
_Turnaround, Every now and then I get a_  
_little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by_

_**NEELA**_

I have to stop this. I can't sit here crying for things that are done and over. I've lost the man I loved. Michael is gone. I've cried my heart dry over him, or perhaps that was more for me. I had to surround myself with pieces of what little time we had together, just to keep myself remembering who it was I was supposed to be crying for. The self pity of this whole mess is compounded by everyone else being so damn understanding, not really getting the point that I stopped crying for Michael after a few weeks, everything else was for poor little me.

I might as well stop gilding the lily. I missed Michael, the realisation that he was never going to be a bigger part of my life hit me like a brick after the funeral. That was all we were going to have. My marriage had consisted of a few months of company with a man who always had half his mind on leaving me, oh we had some fun times, sure; I just can't seem to remember them right now. But there were some, really.

Honestly, Neela were there? If you can't remember them now, what's it going to be like in a few years time? Are you going to make up a few golden moments to make you feel like you actually had a real marriage, not some shotgun convenience affair to make a soldier feel a little happier knowing that when he got killed he was going to leave a widow instead of a girlfriend. I am still so angry with you Michael, how could you do that to me? Marry me, leave me and then leave me forever, was that all I meant to you, just the girl who would always be waiting for you to come home?

I think I knew that we were going to have problems, the signs were there. I fought hard to get where I am, gave up so much to be just exactly where I am today and I know that eventually he would have asked me to give up everything that meant something to me. Is it wrong to be relieved that a situation has been resolved without me actually having to make a decision about it? Probably makes me shallow, makes me a bad person.

I think I need to watch Michael's goodbye video again. I think that's the only way I'm going feel better, perhaps just torture myself a little more. I didn't love him enough to make him stay, he didn't love me enough to want to stay, so I guess we're equal, except he always gets to have the last word. Find someone else he says, settle down. Sure thing, Michael, just as soon as I sort out the train wreck you left behind for me.

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	2. Chapter 2

_Turnaround, Every now and then I get a  
little bit restless and I dream of something wild_

_Turnaround, Every now and then I get a  
little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry_

_  
**RAY**_

Things have been crazy lately. What with the ER getting shot to shit, Abby and Luka having to deal with their personal trauma, it's just been so… crazy. I said that already right, but there ain't no better word to describe it. I've been so busy I've hardly had time to think… about other things. People are starting to take me a little more seriously at work, I've been covering a lot of shifts, pulling the odd double, pulling my weight I guess you could say, throwing myself into it, because it's nice to be needed.

Ouch! Stupid isn't it how one little phrase can just slice you right open, better than any surgeon's scalpel. Sure it's nice to be needed, especially by the right person, but when that person doesn't need or want you, then everything feels a little bit sour. I don't want to go home, I never want to go home.

Sometimes I have to, sometimes I can't justify crashing in the ER lounge, but when I do, home isn't there. Home is where she is. Sometimes I just lie on her bed, imagining what it would be like to hold her, to comfort her, to help her just a bit. Or maybe to hold her and feel her arms around me, perhaps even kiss me, but I know that's not gonna happen. Ever.

I get mad sometimes when I see her at work. She's moving around, walking and talking in the same old way, some sadness in her eyes, sure, but she's still there, the same old Neela. Except this Neela doesn't want or need me in her life. Not that she ever did, I suppose. I was just the annoying, messy, pain in the ass room-mate to her and she's moved on from that, leaving Ray Barnett behind, drowning in her wake. I go up to the roof sometimes and just rage silently at the world. I can't say out loud what I want to, because no decent human being should have such angry thoughts about another.

She gets all the pity. Everyone asks her if she's ok, does she need to take an early mark? But no, little miss perfect never takes a day off, never needs to go home to cry, she just lets everyone see that she's gone to the rest room and comes back with shiny eyes and fresh mascara. Poor little Neela! I don't try and talk to her now. She's made it obvious she wants nothing to do with me, so I have every intention of respecting her wishes.

No-one knows what this is doing to me. No-one asks me if I'm ok. I'm frightened that I'm actually not ok, that this is eating me up inside to the point where I wont have anything of me left. I can't stand there and watch her be so normal, knowing that I can't fake it anymore for myself. I'm gonna crack one of these days and there won't be an army of people telling me to take it easy, so just suck it up Barnett, keep on with a smile on your face and don't let her see what this is doing to you.

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	3. Chapter 3

_Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time  
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark  
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks _

_**NEELA**_

What is Ray's problem? Who the hell does he think he is, Saint Ray of Chicago? Pulling all these double shifts, sucking up to everyone, covering at the drop of a hat. I don't know who the hell he thinks he's fooling, but it's not me. He's up to something. I don't know what, yet, but I think Pratt knows what's going on. I see him looking at Ray sometimes, perhaps they're grooming him to be chief resident eventually. Hah, that would be funny, Mr I-Don't-Do-Responsibility as chief. Well what ever it is, it won't affect me thank God.

Ray is out of my life now. I can't believe that I even thought I had feelings for that pathetic loser. You're the best friend I ever had. Yeah, that says a lot for your friends, doesn't it mate, that someone who only just tolerated you, slapped you around when you deserved it and was constantly nagging your lazy arse to just do something was the best friend you ever had. All that crap about your parents, I never bought that for a second. You always loved the limelight, wanted to be the most important person in the room.

Michael was just so totally different, so caring, always putting everyone else before himself, never needing the adulation of others to be comfortable in his own skin.

Hold on a minute. I can't believe I just said that. Michael put everyone else, except me, before himself. He left me. He went off to fight a war he knew I didn't and couldn't believe in and left me alone. I can't start putting the rose coloured tint over this one, otherwise I'm going to become the champion of self delusion.

Is this what I'm doing? Painting Ray so dark that Michael remains the shining angel that everyone thinks he is. He died doing his duty for his country, so I should be proud and thankful for that. Well bollocks, I'm not going to be. I'm going to be selfish and stubborn over this. He'd done his tour, he didn't have to go back. He chose to leave me when he didn't have to and I'll never forgive him for that.

Have I been unfair to Ray? Maybe a little. He always was a prima dona, loved the spotlight, but hey, don't we all sometimes. And if it comes to the subject of leaving, it was me that left Ray, so I guess he has a right to be distant with me. I didn't give him a reason for leaving, I just went. He all but told me how he felt and I got in that cab without a word. Damn he must hate me. I think it's been easier for me to be angry at Ray than at Michael, classic case of transference.

I miss Ray. There was something there between us, just a bit of a spark, but the friend thing is what I miss the most. I'm so fed up of coming back to a flat that isn't mine with no one to talk to, no dirty dishes or soggy towels to nag about. It's just not the same. I was the one who did the leaving. I was right to go, but part of me keeps thinking, if I'd stayed I wouldn't be lonely now. I'd at least have Ray to comfort me.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

_Once upon a time I was falling in love  
But now I'm only falling apart_

_**RAY **_

How can I keep going on with this? I'm going mad here. One minute I'm so angry I can barely think, the next I'm hurting so much I think my heart will just stop. How is it that one person can do this to another without even knowing? This is torture. I wish I'd never fallen in love with Neela. Everything would have been so much easier if I'd never met her. I wouldn't care so much about anything.

It's her, she's infected me with this sense of duty, this need to try harder at everything, not to accept anything less than perfection. Is there a vaccine for love? Can somebody give me a shot, please? I just can't cope with this anymore.

How am I supposed to go on when all I can think of is her? She fills every part of me. No one else comes close, she who taught me about perfection turned out to be perfect for me. Except that I could never be perfect for her. I can't come close to a dead hero husband, how could a loser like me hope to be lucky enough to win a girl like her?

The beer numbs the pain a bit, not enough to stop me crying, not enough to stop me putting my fist through a wall. Without her I have work and I can't do that 24/7, although I try pretty hard. I can't even sleep without her getting into my dreams. Sometimes we're together, standing outside in the sunshine, she's laughing, the light bouncing off her hair in sheets. She's so alive, so vibrant, but when she reaches out to me, I'm as insubstantial as the fall fog and I realise that she's reaching through me to get to someone else.

When I wake up, my head still thick and fluffy from the Sominex, it takes me a minute to realise that she's not here, I'm on my own. I don't think I could stand the sunshine at the moment, that's where Neela belongs. I'll just stay here in the darkness where no one can see me. Maybe one day I won't wake up.

Here's hoping.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** From here on in, the health warning applies with full force. Deep breaths now...

* * *

_Turnaround, every now and then I know_  
_you'll never be the boy you always wanted to be_  
_Turnaround, every now and then I know_  
_you'll always be the only boy who wanted me the way that I am_  
_Turnaround, every now and then I know_  
_there's no one in the universe as magical and wonderous as you_  
_Turnaround, every now and then I know_  
_there's nothing any better and there's nothing I just wouldn't do_

**_NEELA_**

Ray's late for his shift. No one seems too bothered right now, but Pratt is twitchy, I can tell. He's just called the apartment for the fourth time, leaving another message. OK something's wrong; he's getting his coat and leaving. Ray's probably drunk himself into a stupor, again. Hope he's ok.

It's gone mad in here today. Everyone's snapping at everyone else, guess it's the heat outside; it's making everyone a little crazed. I love the sunshine, the feel of the heat on my skin makes me so alive. The traumas are coming in thick and fast, but I'm doing my bit. I love my work. I love being able to help people, maybe even save someone's life, its all I have to live for now, work and sunny days.

What the hell is going on out there? Why has everyone just rushed out to admit? This must be a bad case, better see if they need my help. There's someone on a gurney, Abby is bagging on the fly, Kovac looks mad as hell, yelling at me to go check on the patient in trauma 2. OK Luka I'm going. Pratt just came in and handed Kovac something. Looked like a pill bottle. Oh God, no.

Don't let this be Ray, oh please Ray, tell me you haven't done anything stupid! Oh Christ, what has he done? I didn't even hear myself scream as Pratt led me away. Why did you do this Ray, what the hell has gone so wrong that you had to do this? This better not be another one of your attention seeking stunts Barnett, because if it is and you make it through this, I'm going to make you wish you hadn't.

Why aren't they doing more, where's the stomach pump, the antidote, the bloody resuscitation effort? What the hell is going on? I force my way in and Ray is lying there, on the gurney, with a badly hand printed sign around his neck, made out of string and the back of a Lucky Charms packet. I choke back a sob as I read the letters DNR in black magic marker.

Ray, what are you throwing away here? You are such a beautiful, brilliant person, you have the ability to light up a room with your smile, don't give up Ray, for God's sake, don't you dare leave me as well, you selfish bastard. I rip the sign off his neck and start shouting out orders as everyone stands around stunned. Kovac tries to tell me that if Ray's wishes were not to be helped, then they have to respect that.

Bollocks! I yell. There's no way Ray was in his right mind when he did this or when he wrote that, so since when did we take the wishes of mentally altered patients as medically sound? I do what I can, Abby is the first to join me, gradually everyone else pitches in. We all work like demons, trying to flush Ray's system, but the worry is that he knew what to take, when to take it and just precisely how long it would take him die, so he'd have planned this well, he knew we'd try everything to bring him back.

Pratt just handed me a letter. It's from Ray.

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	6. Chapter 6

_Once upon a time there was light in my life  
But now there's only love in the dark_

_**RAY  
**_

* * *

_Neela,_

I know you probably don't care if I live or die, so I don't really know why I'm writing this to you, but I have a few things to say.

Without you I wouldn't have seen what a beautiful place this world can be, you shine wherever you go, you are perfection to me. Thank you for showing me a glimpse of what my life could have been like if I'd been lucky enough to have you.

Thank you for the time that we shared together as friends. You changed me, made me a better person for a while.

Without you, the world is black and hard and hateful. When you've been so close to perfection, to have it taken away is torture and I can't stand this anymore.

So I'm taking the coward's way out. Hopefully I'll be dead long before anyone misses me, but just in case, I'm leaving a little sign. I know what the guys in the ER are like, a little overzealous at the best of times.

Love

Ray.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Epilogue**

_Turnaround bright eyes, Every now and  
then I fall apart_

_

* * *

_

Neela sat by Ray's bedside. She'd been crying all night just waiting for the heart monitor to give out its parting wail as Ray slipped away. Turned out he hadn't been as clever as he'd thought. He'd forgotten that sometimes when you take a huge amount of tablets, they clump together and take much longer to get into the blood stream. Thank God he'd been in a hurry. If he'd taken his time then he would be long gone. It would be a few days before they knew how his liver would cope, how much damage had been done. Kovac was quietly confident that Ray would pull through, but he wasn't going to get anyone's hopes up too high.

_How has it come to this_? Neela thought. Ray, who was always so bright, so positive, so carefree, had sunk so low and it was all her fault. After reading that letter there was no denying it, he loved her and she'd ignored him. He'd been her friend and she rejected him. In fact she might as well have spat in his face; it would have had the same effect.

Neela realised when she read his letter what a profound effect she'd had on Ray. But then, he'd changed her too, given her a confidence she'd never had, a freedom to just be herself, something that she now prized above almost anything.

Except the life of the man in the bed next to her. The ventilator kept up its even breathing, doing what Ray could not do for himself, until it started to click. The beeping of the ECG became faster and a little less even. He was coming round.

"Don't Ray" Neela said as she took his hands away from the ventilator tube he'd been trying to knock out, "Not yet, you're not ready for that yet."

Ray was still dazed, eyes closed. Neela flipped the ventilator onto assist, so Ray could regulate his own breathing. At first, there was no rise from his chest. Neela took his hand and held it close to her mouth,

"Come on Ray" she muttered. She prepared to switch the machine back to automatic, but he suddenly started to breathe for himself and looked a little more comfortable.

She wanted to shout at him, tell him how thoughtless he'd been, that he wasn't thinking of all the people he'd leave behind to grieve for him, just how damn stupid he'd been and how lucky, but now was not the time. There would never be a time for those words, and perhaps she was the lucky one here.

She squeezed his hand, "When this is over, I'm going to take you home and get you better, one way or another. I'm not leaving you again Ray and I'm not going to let you go either."

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	8. Chapter 8

**Epilogue part 2 **

_And I need you now tonight  
And I need you more than ever  
And if you'll only hold me tight  
We'll be holding on forever_

_

* * *

_

A spark fired in Ray's brain. He'd never planned to wake up again. He must have screwed up somewhere, not taken enough, or maybe someone wanted him to live. No, he wasn't going to get all philosophical about it, probably it was down to the ER guys, they never quit, even when you tell them to. So much for respecting a patients wishes.

Now he was going to have to face these guys. He was going to have to go through the whole psych consult and assessment before he'd be allowed back to work, if he was ever allowed back to work, if he wanted to go back to work. They were a bit wary of letting psychologically unstable doctors back in the hospital after what happened with Clemente. _Let's face it; they're not going to let me back here anyway._

What do you say to people that you'd kind of hoped to never see again? _Well Barnett, you could start with thanks for saving my life, you ungrateful bastard. But I didn't want to be saved, I still don't want this life of pain and hollow blackness. I have nothing._

Ray became uncomfortably aware of the tube in his throat, of his chest being forced up and down at a rate that was brutally fast, much faster than he wanted. He checked that thought. He **wanted **to breathe. He reached for the tube, fumbling with fingers that felt wrapped in cotton. Gentle hands moved them away and he heard someone say something.

The ventilator changed its pace so he could dictate when he drew breath. At first he was anxious, breathing meant accepting life, accepting the fact that he was alive and he wasn't sure he wanted to do that. He felt his hand being lifted, soft lips and breath against his skin "Come on Ray" he heard, bouncing around his head. He imagined it was Neela's voice. He inhaled.

He could smell her perfume, wafting over him, he knew she was there, he wished he had the energy to open his eyes to check, but he didn't have to.

"When this is over, I'm going to take you home and get you better, one way or another. I'm not leaving you again Ray and I'm not going to let you go either." he heard her say. He couldn't answer, but he hoped she saw the tear that slipped from his eye.

* * *

**A/N:** There, all over now. Was it worth the warnings? Did you like, or hate?

How this story came to be. I was sat in a fusty old pub, Bonnie Tyler came on the juke box and bingo, I saw Roomies all the way. Not quite like this, I have to admit, this one just ran off my fingertips the very same day and has been burning a hole in my hard drive ever since. Sometimes the plot just develops the way it wants to, I'm just the conduit for the words to make their escape.

Apologies for any medical inaccuracies, I researched as much as the story would allow.

Liz


End file.
